


In the Palm Of Your Hand

by Magnetism_bind



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hand Jobs, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-05
Updated: 2012-05-05
Packaged: 2017-11-04 20:44:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/398032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoilers for events in A Storm of Swords. </p><p> </p><p>Jaime struggles to masturbate with his left hand. Brienne gives him a hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Palm Of Your Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Written for You Win Or You Die kink meme on LJ.

Jaime stares at his left hand in frustration. It feels all _wrong_. He flexes it, stretching his fingers, then starts again. Already he knows it's no good. The angle is unfamiliar. His left hand is as clumsy as though it's never touched a cock before. Which, now that Jaime thinks about it, it probably hasn't. His left hand might as well be a stranger. 

It's yet another reminder of his situation. He's doomed to never again get himself off. Will he remain truly celibate when away from Cersei? Will he surrender to the touch of a girl in a brothel? He'd like to say not... but the hardness between his legs is so demanding. He takes a deep breath, bracing himself against the tree with his stump. Cursing it silently, he starts afresh. 

Four fingers, one thumb, and his cock. They should all know each other intimately. Yet his strokes are off. They do nothing for him.

'Useless,' says his cock disdainfully. 'Utterly useless.'

Jaime bites his lip, slamming his stump against the tree. When he turns his head, he sees Brienne watching him silently. 

He thinks about covering himself, but what's the point? He turns to face her, leaning brazenly against the tree. To her credit, she keeps her eyes on his face after that first brief, startled look. 

“Well,” Jaime sneers. “Gloat away.”

“At what?” 

“The one-handed man who can't even get himself off.” He glares at her instead of his hand this time. 

Brienne looks at his cock then, studying it. Under her frank gaze Jaime feels himself harden more, if that's even possible. He's aching now. “Please, just...” He means to tell her to leave him.

Instead she asks. “Do you want a hand?”

Jaime stares at her. The utter ludicrousness of the question makes him laugh. _Of course_ he wants a hand. What is he without a hand? Nothing. Brienne turns to leave and his laughter dies in his throat. 

“I didn't mean.” He swallows. “It's this...” He holds up his stump, trying to explain without having to say it. 

Brienne nods stiffly. 

“Have you ever...” Jaime begins curiously. 

“It is what any knight would do for another.” Brienne tells him.

_Ah_ , Jaime thinks, _she would have that idea after serving Renly_. Still, he doesn't correct her. Instead he merely steadies himself as she removes her gloves and approaches.

Brienne doesn't look at his face as her hand takes hold of his shaft. Jaime stifles a groan, leaning his head back against the tree. _Now_ it feels right. Her hand is capable, strong and calloused from swordplay. He can almost pretend it's his own as her thumb slides over the slit. Teasing him, he'd say, if it were any other woman, but Brienne doesn't know how to tease.

She strokes him rhythmically, watching the way his hips move, thrusting eagerly into her hand. Jaime's breath comes quicker and quicker and somehow she knows to slow her strokes, dragging the pleasure out and making him gasp. He looks at her, imagining just for an instant, what it would be like to kiss her...and he comes, spilling across her fingers. 

Brienne takes her hand away and Jaime's cock has never been so sad in its entire life. 

“It seemed satisfactory.” Brienne observes. She looks at the mess on her hand. 

“Quite.” Jaime agrees. “If you ever need, I can...” He sees the look in her eyes (wondering how good he'll be with his left hand between her legs, no pity, just curiosity) and finishes, “...use my tongue.” He says it blandly.

Brienne's eyes widen. “I suppose you've had lots of practice.”

“Not as much as you would think, but yes. A bit.” He thinks of Cersei, then reaches for Brienne's hand. She relinquishes it reluctantly, wary as he raises it to his mouth. Jaime licks her fingers clean one by one, enjoying the way her hand trembles beneath his tongue.

“That's not necessary,” She whispers at last.

Jaime licks across her palm in a long, broad stroke, looking up at her.

“But I'll remember the offer."

Jaime counts it a victory.


End file.
